


Snow Day

by eutrash (AreteNike)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Multi, Snow Day, literally just 1.7k of allura and keith and eventually shiro playing in the snow. thats it., native bostonian allura teaches texan keith about snow and all its wonders, one very small reference to final fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 06:05:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9643739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AreteNike/pseuds/eutrash
Summary: When life gives you snow, you make snowballs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in my head while shoveling the driveway lol

"Winter," puffs Keith, "is _bullshit_."

There's a muffled chuckle behind him, so he looks up. Allura is leaning on her shovel, watching him; only her eyes are visible beneath her layers of outerwear, but they're crinkled in amusement. He straightens up and pulls down his scarf so as to complain better, and immediately regrets it as a gust of wind blows snow directly into his face.

"Whose fucking idea was this?" he whines.

"Yours," Allura says. He can't see her grin but he can hear it. "You wanted the opposite of Texas."

"Boston was _not_ my idea."

"Well," she says, gesturing across their front yard, currently an unbroken plane of white except for where their efforts have built up snowdrifts. "You don't get this in Houston."

He huffs, because he can't exactly argue against that, and stabs his shovel into the middle of the driveway so he can cross his arms. It stays standing upright, which is only further proof that winter is bullshit.

"I'm gonna call Shiro and tell him to buy a snowblower on the way home."

"Home Depot is probably closed."

"Why?"

"Because the governor told everyone to stay home today."

" _Ugh_."

Allura laughs and goes back to shoveling. Keith pulls his scarf back up and grabs his shovel again too, willing warmth back into his numb fingers. Allura _said_ wool mittens were the warmest option but no matter how often he brushes the snow off them the cold still penetrates.

He _swears_ an inch of the stuff has fallen since they started, too, coating the areas he _already fucking shoveled._ Not to mention that every time the plow comes around it leaves a wall of compacted snow at the base of the driveway and they have to go down and shovel through it again so Shiro can get back to the garage when he comes home. Winter. Is. _Bullshit._

"There's a foot of this shit out here," he grumbles.

"Eight inches, actually!"

"How the hell did you live with this growing up?"

"You wanna know?"

"Yes!"

There's a playfully dangerous note in Allura's voice. "You _really_ wanna know?"

"Yes!" Keith drops his shovel and throws his arms in the air, dislodging the snow that's accumulated on his shoulders. A second later something cold and wet splats against his face. He makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a screech and drags his snowy mittens down his face.

The first thing he sees, when he can see again, is Allura reeling back to throw another snowball. He yells and ducks, and scoops up some snow, rolling it between his hands in an attempt to make one of his own. Allura's still hits him—on the shoulder, at least—and he straightens to throw his.

It makes it about two feet, out of the ten or so between them, before disintegrating and falling sadly to the ground. They stare at its remains for a moment; then Allura laughs, hard. She doubles over, clutching at her stomach, and despite Keith's best efforts a giggle escapes his lips unbidden.

"Oh, oh, honey," she gasps. "That's not... that's not how you do it."

"Yes, I realize that," he doesn't quite manage to deadpan.

"Here, here." She wades through the unshoveled portion of the driveway toward him. "I'll show you."

And she does, grabbing a handful of snow and showing him how to compact it into a projectile. He tries again, and manages to make a passable, if misshapen, snowball.

"There!" she says. "And now that you know how to make a snowball, I don't have to go easy on you." And she pushes her snowball directly into his face again, laughing. He yells and throws his blindly—by her yelp, he manages to hit her. He wipes his face again and dives for his shovel, crouching behind its broad blade for cover.

"That's cheating!" she calls. He ducks out of cover to fling a snowball at her, hitting her in the shoulder.

"All's fair in love and war!" he calls back teasingly.

"How _dare_ you use my favorite quote against me. It's _on_."

Laughing, they battle it out in earnest, chore forgotten. His aim is deadly, when his snowballs don't fall apart, but she can make them much faster. She overwhelms him with volume, until she finally charges him, yelling, with an armful of snow, dumping it all on his head and tackling him in the process. They go down laughing.

At least, Allura is laughing. Keith is half-laughing, half-sputtering beneath his faceful of snow, again. When he finally gets clear of it and opens his eyes, Allura is still hovering over him. She tugs down his scarf and leans down to kiss him.

"Still think winter is bullshit?" she asks when she pulls back, noses brushing.

"It's okay," he concedes, and her face lights up.

"Good! Because I'll bet you've never made a snowman, have you? Or snow angels?"

"No...?"

"Upsy-daisy, then!" She gets to her feet and pulls him up after. "You are going to experience _everything_ winter has to offer."

He looks halfheartedly at the half-cleared driveway. "Weren't we supposed to be shoveling?"

She shrugs. "The Jeep can handle it. Come on."

They end up building a snowman almost as tall as Keith, there in the middle of their front yard, and make its arms and face from sticks and rocks. He can only imagine what the neighbors must think of them, two grown adults laughing and playing in the snow, but he doesn't really care. He's enjoying himself almost enough to ignore the cold biting at his nose and fingers.

"Let the snow accumulate on your mittens," Allura tells him at one point. "It'll help insulate."

It's counterintuitive, but it works, and soon they step back to admire their creation.

"What should we name him?" Allura asks. Keith picks up a dead leaf uncovered by their efforts and sticks it to the snowman's face, above its mouth.

"Coran, after your uncle," he says, and she laughs.

He's just flopped down into the last clear corner of the yard at Allura's direction to make a snow angel when a car rumbles onto their cul-de-sac. Keith sits up to look, and pulls his scarf down; it's their Jeep, turning into the driveway and plowing through the snow that's accumulated since they shoveled (and what they didn't get around to shoveling at all).

"Shiro!" he calls, and waves. Shiro waves from the driver's seat and pulls into the garage; a minute later he comes out to the yard and surveys the absolute mess they've made of it.

"Having fun, I see," he says. He's not as bundled up as Keith and Allura, having come directly from work, but his breath puffs out in thick clouds so that Keith can hardly see his face anyway. He picks his way around a drift and across the yard to join them.

"How was the ride home?" Allura asks.

"Fine. No traffic, at least." He grins down at Keith. "Enjoying the snow?"

"Allura made me."

They both laugh at that, and Shiro leans over and gives her a peck on the temple, in the little space between her hat and scarf.

"I was about to teach him about snow angels," Allura says.

"Can't help teaching even on a snow day, huh?"

"You should join us." She steps over next to Keith's feet, where there's still some untouched snow.

"I don't want to get snow in my arm," Shiro says, waving his prosthetic.

"You can make a one-winged angel," Keith says before he realizes what he's saying. Right on cue, Shiro and Allura start humming in unison, and he groans.

"You guys are fucking nerds," he declares, and flops back into the snow, closing his eyes. The humming continues, though broken by giggles, and soon by two soft _whoomp_ noises in quick succession, on either side of him. Moments later, two hands close around his outstretched ones.

"Together," Allura says, and she and Shiro both drags his arms back and forth in a flapping motion, slightly out of sync. He gives a theatrical groan; the snow is just tall enough to hide his grin, and though their arms simply slide through the fluff at first, they do manage to push most of it out of the way. They all sit up together, and help each other up, and survey their rather lopsided angels.

"You were supposed to move your feet, too, Keith," Shiro says. He doesn't seem affected by the cold at all. Damn northerners.

"Like an angelic robe," Allura adds.

"Well, you didn't mention that." Keith pulls his scarf up over his nose again, unable to keep a straight face. Shiro tugs it back down again, smirking at him.

"God forbid you have fun," he teases. Keith rolls his eyes, but he leans up to give him a kiss anyway.

"Welcome home," he says. "You can shovel the front walk."

"And to think I drove slowly in the hope you two would do it without me."

"We should get a snowblower."

"I thought of that. Home Depot is closed. Sears, too."

"Told you," says Allura.

"Maybe tomorrow," Shiro says, and stretches. "Why don't we warm up with some hot chocolate before we get back to shoveling, hm?"

"You haven't even shoveled yet." Keith nudges his side, already on his way towards the still-open garage and the promise of warmth.

"That means you're making the hot chocolate, Shiro," Allura says behind him, to which Shiro chuckles.

Keith stomps his way through the garage, trying to shake off some of the snow that clings to him and his boots, before he slips through the door into the warm kitchen. He removes his sodden mittens with a sigh, and dumps them and his scarf and hat on the table.

"Nope!" Allura says as she comes in. "Put those on the radiator to dry, you're getting the table wet."

"The table can handle it," he says, but he does.

Shiro cheats and uses the microwave to make the hot chocolate, but neither Keith nor Allura trust him with the stove so he's quickly forgiven. They all sit at the kitchen table together and play footsie in their wool socks, and they drink their hot chocolate, and they laugh and laugh. And Keith cradles his warm mug in his hands and decides that maybe, just maybe, winter isn't _complete_ bullshit.

...Just a _little_ bit bullshit.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu @[maternalcube](http://maternalcube.tumblr.com/)


End file.
